Shallow

by Yessi Smith

  “I’ll go after I finish cleaning up.”

  “No!” I roared, the veins on my neck tightening with the exertion. “Now, Brinley.”

  She turned back to her friends, who had started working again.

  “I’m almost done cleaning your mom’s headstone.” She hesitated. “I can’t get all the paint off, but most of it…”

  “Don’t touch her headstone.” Heat rushed to my head, made me dizzy. “This is your fault. You did this!”

  She bowed her head. Another tear spilled. “I know,” she whispered.

  “Doesn’t matter how much you change, Brinley.” I spat out. “You’re still the school’s princess. You can’t move from that, when you’ve lived it for so long. When you try, this is what happens!”

  She flinched at my words. Nodded again. “I won’t touch your mom’s headstone. The stuff my dad brought for me to use to clean it, it’s all there.” She jerked her head toward my parents’ headstones. “I wasn’t able to start on your dad’s.” Her chin wobbled. “I won’t touch it though. Just let me help pick up the trash.”

  I didn’t answer her, couldn’t answer her. Not after everything I’d said. Not with all the emotions churning inside of me.

  When I reached my parents, I touched my mom’s headstone first. Her vase no longer there, but it’d been replaced with one similar to it. Fresh flowers rested in it, each of them neatly placed with care. There was a crack down the center of the stone, much like the crack that tore through my chest.

  Comparing my dad’s headstone to my mom’s, Brinley had done a good job cleaning up my mom’s. An incredible job. I shot her a look over my shoulder, but found Danny standing behind me.

  “Want me to finish your mom’s while you work on your dad’s?” he asked.

  He should’ve been angry with me, with the way I’d spoken to Brinley. I was sure he’d heard us, was sure all three of them had heard us. But he showed me nothing but compassion.

  “Yeah, whatever.” I brushed him off, wanted to brush everyone off, so I could be by myself. Alone with the ghost of my parents.

  Brinley worked as far from me as she could, picking up the multitude of trash that Jacob and Joseph had spread, tossing the never-ending strands of toilet paper that they had flung everywhere in her trash bag. The hateful words Joseph and Jacob sprayed right over their grave glared at me. I couldn’t get rid of them. Couldn’t wash them away. Instead, I had to wait for the grass to grow so it could be mowed down. But even worse than that, were the words they used to cover the plaque. Brinley had been able to clean away the words on my mom’s plaque but my dad’s…

  I leaned my head against his headstone, dug my fingers in the dirt beneath me while my other hand clung onto the large chunk on the top that had fallen off completely.

  Cheater

  I scrubbed the words with a hard pad, wished the lie into inexistence. They didn’t just deface my parents’ plaque and tombstone, their resting place, but defamed their character with an untruth that cut me to my core.

  If Roderick were my son I would’ve killed myself too

  My parents had loved me. I knew that, felt it in my bones. But those words, they made me wonder. Made me think of my mom’s sister, who cared for me but barely tolerated me. And I wondered if they were happier without me.

  The words I tried to cleanse myself of slithered into my mind, wrapped around me and made it all true.

  Brinley’s words from so long ago crashed in my head, reminded me that I’d killed my parents. Because if they hadn’t gone to get me ice cream, maybe…

  The thought pierced my heart, ran my soul straight into the ground. Her words had been tossed at me callously; they still clung to me like a cloak. And every time I remembered it, I felt the spike of pain her words delivered.

  She and I knew the weight words carried. They could save. They could destroy. Us? We played at saving, but chose to destroy.

  We were both victims, both perpetrators.

  By the time Danny finished with my mom’s headstone, the others had also finished. I stood up from my place in front of Dad’s headstone. He gripped my shoulders, squeezed them before letting go.

  “I’m sorry about this,” he said. “It’s all so screwed up, but it isn’t Brinley’s fault.”

  “Danny,” she said his name, a warning not to continue.

  He nodded his head. “If you need anything, man…” he trailed off.

  “I’m good. Thanks for…,” I couldn’t finish, didn’t want to finish, but I met all of their gazes, except Brinley’s.

  With nothing else to say, I knelt back in front of my dad’s headstone and got back to work. When I was sure they’d all left, I let go of the spray bottle and the scrub pad. Placing a hand on both of their headstones, I dropped my head and cried.

  Tears for them, for the life that was stolen. Tears for me, for the life I couldn’t have. Tears for Brinley, and the promises I broke. Because regardless of the words I’d said, I still loved her. I still needed her.

  It didn’t mean I could have her though. It didn’t mean we’d ever stop hurting each other. It didn’t mean I deserved her.

  My fingers hurt by the time my dad’s headstone was as clean as I could get it. It wasn’t perfect, would never be perfect, but nothing in my life had ever been perfect. At least not since my parents’ death.

  After placing a kiss on both their headstones, I stood up and looked over their grave. The words were still painted on the grass, but all the trash was gone. When I started making my way back up the hill, I noticed Brinley’s figure facing me from beneath a tree.

  Anger pulsed. I didn’t want her here, hadn’t wanted her or anyone to see me when I broke. Fury grew with each step and when I reached her, she stood up.

  Her eyes were red, her face pale. When she crossed her arms over her stomach, her hands shook. And damn, I wanted to go to her. To apologize and make her feel better.

  Instead, I glared into her, straight through her the way I’d seen her do multiple times throughout the years.

  “What are you doing here?” I demanded.

  She jutted out her chin, threw her shoulders back. “I didn’t want you to be here by yourself.”

  My resolve wavered. The unconditionally way she cared for me was insane. And stunning.

  “I wanted to be alone,” I replied.

  “You were alone.” Her voice remained steady while her eyes glistened with tears she tried to hold back. “I just watched over you.”

  “I don’t want you watching over me,” I barked out. “We, us? We’re no longer together. We were a mistake.”

  “Don’t say that!” Her scream startled me. In all the years she’d been mean and hateful, I’d never once heard her raise her voice. “You can’t say we were a mistake. You don’t want to be with me anymore, fine.” Her voice broke and she hugged herself tighter. “I get that, but you don’t get to say we were a mistake. Not when you’re my only truth.”

  “I can’t be your truth, when you’re my lie.”

  She cried out. It was a painful sound that chipped at the wall I was so desperate to build.

  “You were a flaw that should never have happened.”

  A sob ripped through her. And I left her there. Shattered.

  I finally got it. I got why so many times Brinley had told me she hated herself. Because in that moment, when I lashed out at the person I treasured the most, I hated everything about myself, especially my words.

  Bare feet carried me forward while my heart stayed behind, with Brinley, with my parents. I walked with purpose, with heat slamming through my limbs. The need to destroy, to hurt, grew stronger.

  When I rounded the corner, I paused. Took in a sharp breath. Taking out my phone from the pocket of my shorts I clicked on Danny’s name.

  Me: Call Brinley. Make sure she’s ok and take care of her.

  The thoughts were final. We were done. A beautiful tragedy that I already missed. The memory of her touch, of her lips, of her breath on me would car
ry me. It had to.

  A block away from Jacob and Joseph’s house, a car pulled up beside me. I walked faster, not knowing or caring who it was. My only concern was the twins. Was making them pay for vandalizing my parents’ headstones and for taking away the girl who was supposed to be my forever.

  “Roderick!”

  I kept walking, ignoring the voice that belonged to Brinley’s dad. A few beats later, and he was in front of me gripping me by the shoulders.

  “Think about what you’re doing,” he said.

  I shrugged out of his hold, or tried to, but he kept me fastened in place.

  “I know you’re pissed, you have every right to be, and if you really want to go after the twins, I won’t stop you.”

  “I really want to kick their asses,” I seethed.

  “Think about your future for a second.” His voice was calm, his hold on me tight. “You go up there, you kick their asses, and then what?”

  “I feel better.”

  “Yeah.” He nodded. “Until you’re arrested for assault without cause.”

  “They destroyed my parents’ headstones!” Rage drummed through my veins and poisoned my heart.

  “I know they did.” His hands slid to the sides of my neck, continued to ground me. “And their punishment isn’t fair, a fine their parents will pay isn’t justice, but neither is you fighting them. You’d hurt them, sure. They’d end up back in the ER for a few hours, and then they’d get better. But you? Roderick, you’ll end up in jail. You’re better than that. You deserve better than that.”

  I looked back at their house and then back at the man who apparently knew I’d wind up coming here and tried to save me from myself.

  This man, whose daughter’s heart I’d shredded, took me in his arms. I held onto him while I let the tears fall. For the second time today, I broke down, covered myself in grief.

  So many things in my life had gone to ruin. So many times my life had collapsed.

  The person who wound up hurting me the most was the one who promised me he never would. It made sense though. I’d hurt him first.

  At school, he was a shadow of the person he was before. Or maybe not a shadow, but a looming cloud. Destructive and angry.

  No one was safe from his wrath. Jacob and Joseph smartly stayed away from him until one day they quit coming to school all together. I learned from Nicole that their parents had transferred them to another school to finish out the year. I was happy to see them go, but miserable to see how deeply Roderick rooted into himself.

  Days passed, blurred together and when a new week started, I still couldn’t shake the misery. But today, I had to fake my smile. Had to put on a show as our cheer captain when we went to a nearby middle school to perform and encourage future freshmen to join the cheer squad.

  After changing into my outfit in the girls’ bathroom, I ran across the empty gym, hoping I’d make it to the bus that waited for me in record time. Already I was three minutes late.

  I came to a stop when someone grabbed me from behind by my ponytail and tugged me back. I yelled in surprise, in sudden pain, but that kind of hurt was nothing compared to the poison that lurked in my heart. Falling on my bottom, I looked up at the face of one of my old friends, one of Jacob’s best friends. Ethan’s smile was twisted, his eyes narrowed.

  His big body loomed over me. I crawled back, my chest heaving as fear gripped me. He smacked his lips and when his hand reached for me, I scooted back further.

  A scream tightened in my throat, stalled on my tongue. I couldn’t get it out, couldn’t yell for help.

  Hands gripped my wrist and I threw my leg up in a kick. He stumbled back on a laugh. Twisting my body, I jumped to my feet, but the same hands grabbed my waist and pulled me to him. My back hit his chest hard, and I shuddered out a scared breath when he ran his nose across my neck to my chin.

  “Stop.” My voice trembled, but I’d managed to say it. To tell him to stop. Not that he would listen.

  A dark chuckle fell from his lips on my neck.

  I stomped on his foot, dug my heel against his shoe. He let me go for only a second, not enough time for me to run.

  “Let her go!” A familiar voice, one I loved and dreamt about roared.

  Ethan shoved me away, and I spun around to watch them, knowing I should run for help. Roderick was nothing but a blur of motion when he ran to us. His fist connected with Ethan’s face on a loud crack. Blood splattered everywhere.

  Finally, the scream came. It wasn’t a call for help though, but a plea for Roderick to stop. He didn’t hear me. Fists rained across Ethan’s face while Roderick crouched over him, pinning his body to the floor. The fight in Ethan had already stopped, and I was scared what would happen if I couldn’t get Roderick to quit.

  I pulled on Roderick’s arm but fell back when he shrugged me away. At least that seemed to get his attention. A pained expression looked back at me.

  “Roderick,” I whispered.

  He stood up, came to me with slow movements. Behind him, Ethan dragged himself up and after swearing at Roderick, he stumbled out of the gym, never uttering a word why he would attack me. My guess was he was finishing Jacob and Joseph’s work, their ridiculous vengeance on me. At least they finally stopped hurting the people I loved and were finally focusing that attention on me.

  “Are you okay?” Roderick asked.

  I took his hand when he reached for me. I loved his warmth, loved the feel of his skin on mine.

  “Did he hurt you?”

  I shook my head. Ethan wasn’t the one who hurt me.

  “I’m fine.” I brushed my skirt down and then went to work on fixing my ponytail.

  “Your bus is waiting for you.”

  I nodded.

  “No one’s gonna hurt you again. You’re safe.”

  Lie. Every day Roderick hurt me. Every day I felt less and less secure.

  He smirked. “Even when I try to hate you, I’m still going to make sure you’re okay.”

  He was back to trying to hate me. We’d made a full circle, back to where we started.

  My coach’s whistle blew in the distance. I chanced a glance away from Roderick, hoping he wouldn’t disappear.

  “You should go.” His voice sounded distant.

  I took a step away from him, away from us and it hurt. God, it hurt.

  “Are we ever going to be okay again?” I held my breath, waited for him to answer.

  “No.” He breathed the word, stole my oxygen.

  With my head bowed down, I ran from him, from the boy who held my heart. Our coach rushed me when she saw me, and I sprinted faster.

  On the bus, I sat next to Nicole. Our friendship was still a work in progress, but I was glad to have her back.

  “You guys wrote poetry together?” she asked me while I continued to stare out the window.

  “Yeah.”

  The reminder of the messages we’d written to each other, for each other haunted me every day. I hadn’t been able to write since, and wondered what I’d do at the art school if I could no longer write. If writing had become painful, instead of healing.

  “So write him a poem,” she suggested.

  She made it sound easy. Write him a poem, send it to him through text or on a note that I could tuck in his locker.

  “Brin.” She touched my hand. “You’re sad without him. Get him back.”

  “He doesn’t want me back.” Finally, I turned to her, showed her my despair at losing the boy I loved.

  “Fight for him, Brin,” she urged. “Your words have power, use them.”

  Once we reached the middle school, I ambled out of the bus with enthusiasm I didn’t feel. I shouted, went through all of our routines with a smile I couldn’t feel.

  I was numb. Lifeless.

  I pretended for the kids though, and for the girls on my team that relied on me.

  In the cafeteria, I watched my team talk to the girls that approached them. They were loud, rang with a joy that draped over me like a protective
arm. I felt it, felt their happiness.

  Looking around the room, I saw a girl sitting in the back. She watched us in quiet wonder. I went to her, took the empty seat beside her.

  “Hi,” I said.

  She brushed a strand of hair out of her face. “Hey.”

  “I’m Brin.”

  “Gabbie.”

  “What’d you think, Gabbie? Are you going to cheer for us next year?”

  A deep blush spilled over her cheeks. “Oh no.” She shook her head. “I couldn’t do that. Not in front of so many people.”

  “It’s kinda scary, isn’t it? Having all those eyes on you?”

  Her mouth gaped open. “You were scared up there?”

  “Every time I’m scared. But you know what that means, don’t you?”

  She shook her head again.

  “Whenever you’re about to do something you want to do that scares you, it means it’s something important. Something that matters.” I licked my lips as my heart clenched in my chest. “Don’t let it stop you. Instead use it to move forward. And when you do it, Gabbie, do it with your whole heart.”

  She perked up, nodded her head. “I’m a pretty good dancer.”

  “Yeah? Then let’s see you cheer.” Standing up, I extended my hand.

  With a shy smile, she took it. I called my team to me, told them we were going to teach the girls one of our more basic routines. It wasn’t part of what our coach told us to do, but it was something I had to do, for Gabbie.

  “Stand with me,” I instructed Gabbie when we all lined up.

  I took the girls through the moves, one at a time. My team encouraged them, helped them make slight adjustments. After a half hour, the girls were jumping in excitement to put the whole routine together.

  “Can you lead them?” I asked Nicole. “I want to watch.”

  Nicole grinned and after clapping her hands to get their attention, she started.

  The girls followed suit, and to my delight, Gabbie was really good. A bit timid in her movements, but she would do well. I took a picture of the girls, and made a mental note to give our coach Gabbie’s name and show her what she looked like. Because if Gabbie wanted to join the team next year, I was going to give her a solid, fighting chance to get in.